


Once Upon A Nightmare

by Starbooks13



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Loki Does What He Wants, Mind Games, Seduction, Sensuality, Sexual Tension, Warning: Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbooks13/pseuds/Starbooks13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That the dream didn't look like a nightmare should have been the first sign that something was wrong."</p>
<p>In which Natasha gets a visit in her dreams from a certain Trickster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon A Nightmare

                That the dream didn’t look like a nightmare should have been the first sign that something was wrong.  Not that she always had nightmares, but Natasha Romanoff was far too used to closing her eyes and seeing horrific scenes from her past playing out before her.  But instead of a memory, she was standing in the middle of a beautiful, snow-covered clearing, surrounded by trees on all sides.  It was night, but a full moon shone just above the trees, making the snow glisten and giving a soft, cool glow to the scene.  All was still and quiet.

                Natasha took a step, and heard the familiar crunch of snow beneath a boot.   Glancing down, she discovered that she was wearing a simple black dress, but of a style completely unfamiliar to her.  It consisted of a long piece of silk wrapped around her torso, held in place by a silver belt.  The skirt descended to mid-calf, but was slashed so as to bare her legs if she moved.  A pair of knee-high black leather boots with stiletto heels completed the ensemble.

                That was when the warning flags started flying up.  Her subconscious was not usually so romantic as to create a setting straight from a storybook or dress her in silk and leather like the heroine of a fantasy novel.  “I don’t like people playing with my mind,” she said aloud.

                A terribly familiar, mocking laughter echoed through the trees, and Natasha suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the snow around her.  If there was one thing the Black Widow hated, it was not being in control, especially around—or in this case, because of—a certain God of Mischief.

                Loki emerged from the trees, a smirk on his handsome face.  “Oh, but I do love to play with you, Agent Romanoff.”  His voice echoed in the stillness of the meadow, and she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up at the _power_ it contained.  It almost seemed to have a physical presence, brushing against her body, caressing her—and, before she could blink, drawing her towards him, though she hadn’t moved since the first footstep.

                She found herself face-to-face with him—or rather face-to-chest, since he towered over her even when she wore stilettos.  She tilted her head back to look him in the eye.  “What do you want?”

                His smirk only widened.  “At the moment…” His eyes flicked over her form.  “The pleasure of your company.”

                “Not interested,” she replied flatly.  She tried to take a step back, but the shadows around Loki _moved_ , surging forward to capture her limbs in a firm, icy grip.  She struggled, but whatever magic he had worked was stronger than her dream-self’s physical abilities.  

                All her efforts earned her was Loki’s amusement.  “You can’t fight me here.  Your dreams are mine to command, and so are you.”

                “No one commands me,” she snapped, furious at her helplessness.  She’d sworn she’d never be vulnerable around him again, not after what happened the first time they matched wits with each other.  But here she was, at his mercy in a way she could never have foreseen.  

                His laugh was dark and seductive this time as he drew closer to her.  “You were bred to take orders, Natalia.  You were made to serve…to obey…to _kneel_.” His use of her name from _before_ made her feel violated, as though he’d probed her depths and dragged to the surface that which would hurt her the most.  As such, she couldn’t keep from flinching at the sudden chill of his hand against her cheek.  “You simply have never found a worthy master.”

                Anger and defiance were her only weapons now, and she forged them into a shield, hoping to gain a temporary respite from his assault.  “And you believe you are?”

                He stroked the side of her face with surprising gentleness.   “I was born to be a king.  And as I’ve said before, you were made to be ruled.  You are meant to belong to me.”

                “Never,” she hissed.

                He raised an eyebrow. “Come now, is the thought of submission to me truly so repulsive?”

                She jerked her head away.  “I don’t submit to anyone.  And _you_ make my skin crawl.”

                Loki grinned slyly before vanishing, only to press against her back an instant later.  He leaned down and she felt his cold lips brush against her neck, tracing her pulse where it fluttered beneath his mouth.  “That’s not all I could do with your skin,” he murmured, his voice hypnotic.  Natasha found her eyes closing against her will as his hands slid over her silk-clad curves, moving low to caress her thighs where they were bared by the dress.  She bit back a moan.  “I can give you such pleasure, Natasha.  You need only surrender to me.” 

                He spun her to face him, the shadowy wisps sliding from her body as he locked her in his arms.  His icy eyes bored into hers.  “Be mine, little spider, of your own free will, and I will lay this world at your feet.”

                She took a deep, shaking breath, fighting a losing battle for control.  “I’ll die first.”

                Only someone as highly trained in reading people as she was could catch the flurry of emotions which flickered across Loki’s face.  Disappointment, anger, hatred, amusement…lust.  “That can be arranged.”  His smile was sharp, cruel.  “But I’m far from done with you.”

                His mouth crushed against hers, harsh and unforgiving, and the nightmare shattered.

                Natasha bolted upright in bed, a strangled cry on her lips, gasping for breath, her hand immediately going for the gun beneath her pillow.  It took her a few seconds to realize that she was _not_ trapped in a snow-covered forest with Loki, his icy hands on her flesh and his beautiful, terrible voice in her ear.  A dream.  That was all it was.  

                No.  It was more than that, and she resolved to talk to Thor first thing in the morning.  If Loki could get inside her head, they were all in danger.


End file.
